Normal Need Not Apply
by ms.j
Summary: So he saw his best friend in the buff. The world hasn't ended, right?


Victorious fanfic: Tandre and bit of Caddie (much thanks to the Victorious wiki for info)

Normal need not apply

_Normal need not apply.  
_  
Such was the case with André Harris, young musician and high senior at Hollywood Arts.

It had great application to his studies, his home life (his sick grandmother, his absent parents, his annoying little sis), even his music.

There was, however, his friendship with Tori Vega. It wasn't crazy. It was like a good melody: smooth, comforting and without frills.

And for a dude like him, he appreciated that touch of normalcy.

Like a thousand times before, he knocked on her front door and expected Trina to answer it.

It was the weekend and her household had a routine: Her parents would be off visiting her grandmother who lived an hour away. Trina would make herself disappear somehow-random date, chasing a luckless producer, glow-in-the-dark mini golf. They would drink hot cocoa, watching B-rated movies and hang out.

_Unlike_ other teenagers at Hollywood Arts, they didn't chase stardom during their off-time.

No producers, no auditions, no obsession with fame.

Just chillaxing.

Trina was clockwork today; she opened the door and called him some variation of a name started with the letter A. "Hey Aiden—"

"It's André."

"Whatever, she's upstairs. Go knock." Then, Trina went out the door like a vapor, smelling like a mix of some expensive perfume and cheap cherry lip gloss.

He shook his head, wondering if maybe Tori was the milkman's baby.

The sound of pop music blasting from her bedroom forced him to pound on the door a few times, calling her name. "Tori? Yo, TORI!"

The pop music continued to blare. Minor irritation set in. What was she, dead to the world? Maybe she was dead? He shook himself. Naw, he knocked louder, hoping he would finally get her attention. "TORI!"

The door flew open and the world went from normalcy to flat-out weird. "Look, Trina, I do not want to hear you sing 'We wish You a Merry Christmas' Gaga style and..._ohmycrap _André!"

His mind blanked on everything else, except a purple towel hitting the floor and smooth tan skin.

_Wonky. _

Ninety very long seconds passed.

Wide brown eyes stared back at him.

Shock slammed into his system finally after all the blood in his body hit the floor. "I'msorryTori!"

The door closed and he turned into a vapor as he rushed out of Tori's house.

* * *

He hated that the last bit of normal behavior between them crumbled to bits like an explosion in an action movie. He confined himself to his room and avoided the prying eyes of his sister.

Sunday morning, church felt worse. Wedged between his parents on the pew, who were home this weekend, he listened to the pastor 'preach.' Not preach, but _preach_ like they would say in old school singing and dancing churches. The pastor's topic: Lusting eyes.

André wanted to dissolve into a million pieces. He bowed his head and hoped everyone thought he was praying. He could not let them see that his sinning eyes saw way too much of his best friend Friday evening.

* * *

Monday morning had to come. Another two months of school, then freedom.

Today, he felt trapped by Friday. Her locker was next to his. And _she_ was on time to school today for first period.

He ran a hand down his face. Could black people blush? If so, he was doing a job at it.

Tori shut her locket and saw him. She hugged her books to her chest like a shield. "Hey André !" Her voice rose too many octaves for his ears.

"Heyyyy, Tori." He tugged at his collar. His memory was pretty good.

"Ummm...Tori?"

"Yeah?" Same wide brown eyes staring at him. Begging him, willing him...

Did she want to talk about it?

"We should get to class." _What kind of ganky statement was that?_

"Class, yeah, class is good." She nodded, her body stiff as if she was a wooden puppet like Rex.

He hurried to get his own books and book bag out his locket. "Ok."

"Ok."

They went to class with a foot of space them between.

Normalcy definitely could not knock at his door any longer.

* * *

By Wednesday, it was too weird for everyone else because _they_ were weird.

He and Tori still hadn't talked, but shared tortured looks when their eyes met.

Who would speak first? Who wanted to acknowledge it?

At lunch, Cat flounced up to him at the table. "Are you okay?"

He sighed. "Yeah, Little Red. I'm cool."

"Ok… because this reminded me of that one time my brother was in the zoo and they locked him up in the hyena pen and we had to save him with a paper clip-"

André held up a hand, trying to process this latest noodle. "Umm, what?"

Cat pointed to something on his plate. "Ooh, are you gonna eat that burrito?"

_Forget food_. He pushed the plate away. "No..."

"Kay!" She snatched the burrito off his plate and walked away.

He threw his arms up. "What was that?"

"Yeah, I didn't follow that either..." Robbie sat down with Rex and his lunch tray.

Both of them watched Cat melt into the crowd. More so, _Robbie's stare_ seemed to melt into Cat's tight jeans and baby tee.

"Quit staring, 'fro boy." Rex smacked his owner in the chest.

"I wasn't doing anything!" Robbie answered his puppet.

"Dude, your eyes were glued to her—" André stopped. _Just like your eyes were glued to Tori._ "Nevermind."

"My eyes were glued to what?" Robbie stared at him. "What are _you_ looking at?"

That question haunted him all weekend. "Who said I was looking at anything?"

"Who's looking at what?" Jade appeared, her arms folded. She was her usual sour self.

"Nothing." Both of them exclaimed. They jumped up from the table and walked off in opposite directions.

André could hear Jade remarking about the weirdness surrounding her.

* * *

Gym class became a welcome distraction for André.

He and Beck played a pickup game of basketball. Beck was the last line of sanity in this insane day.

Into their fourth game, Beck spoke. "Aright, I've been sent on a mission as if from God."

André bent down to tie his shoe lashes. "What does Jade want to know?"

"As much distance Jade tried to put between herself and normal socialization, she does care." Beck passed him the ball. "Why did you and Robbie leave lunch so fast?"

"Oh."

"Oh?"

"Robbie and I had a misunderstanding." André grabbed the ball and lined up his next shot.

"Ok. Doesn't seem to be the type of thing to keep you from speaking to Vega for three days."

André missed said shot then cursed.

Beck eyed him. "Did something happen between you and Tori?"'

"No." André tossed him the ball.

"Okay then." Beck landed his shot.

"Why did you say it like that?"

"Like what?" Beck shrugged.

André grabbed the ball. "Like an accusation."

"I didn't _accuse _you of anything unless you got something to feel guilty about." Beck managed to block this shot too.

André threw the ball down. It wasn't going to go away.

He found a bench to sit on and covered his head with a towel in shame.

Beck came over and sat down next to him. "Look, if it makes you feel better, Jade sent Cat on a mission to find out why Tori's been hiding in the janitor's closet."

Guilt hit him. "She is?" He removed the towel. "Dang."

"What did ya do? Sleep together?"

André gave him a look so heated, Beck threw his hands up. "I'm just saying!" Then, Beck lowered his voice. "Wait...You didn't, right...you know, sleep with her?"

"No." André shook his head. "But, I wanted to."

"What?" Beck's mouth hung open.

"I saw Tori naked."

* * *

Beck laughed loud enough to attract everyone's attention on the court.

André punched him in the shoulder. "You think _I'm_ laughing?"

Beck rubbed the tender spot on his shoulder, but kept laughing. "Naw, man...it's just..." He rocked back and held his belly. "Oh man. Oh man!"

André stormed off. _Some friend you are, Beck.  
_

The last period of the day came and Beck found him after school. "Alright, alright, I'm sorry."

André was sullen as he slammed his locker close. "Whatever."

"It's just that... I get it..." Beck followed him to his car in the student parking lot.

"Get what?"

"You dig her."

"Yeah, and? That didn't exactly win me brownie points as I stared at her like a piece of meat." André a shook his head. He and Beck had a long conversation about it, the "it" being the lovely contradiction that was Tori Vega.

His crush wasn't a secret to Beck or Robbie. Heck, it wasn't a secret to most people it seemed.

Except, her, the "crushee."

"Ok, you saw her in the buff. The world hasn't ended."

André pointed a finger in his face. "So, how come she hasn't talked to me?"

Beck paused. "Oh yeah."

"I embarrassed her! She must think I'm just another dude thinking with the wrong head. It pisses me off."

"She wouldn't say that."

"Then, why didn't I look away? Why when I see her now, I just want to see her like I did on Friday? No clothing, no fabric, just...her."

"It's normal. She's a chick, you're a guy."

"Including the Trey Songz-eqse thought process stuck in my head?"

Beck held a hand up. "Good point."

André growled. "Not helping!"

"Look, come to the RV later and chill. Get it off your chest about her...chest..."

André sighed in defeat. What else could he do? "I guess I'll see you later."

* * *

The rest of the week remained weird even after he and Beck talked.

Robbie and Rex spent most of the classes they shared with André whispering about "there will be blood loss" as they pointed at him. Jade looked like the cat that ate a fat canary—more like the Jade who got to torture the luckless Cat Valentine because of her renewed Sky Store addiction. Beck spent the rest of the week talking to him in a "space alien relationship expert" voice for the audition he wanted to score next week.

And Tori still avoided him.

Friday came as a blessing and a curse.

The blessing was that the week was over.

The curse was that it was Friday—his day to spend with Tori.

The thought of ducking and hiding in his room appealed to him, but his sister would snap too many cracks about him and "his un-girlfriend" fighting.

Would she want to see him anyways? He already had seen too much of her so to speak.

He dragged himself to the student parking lot and hopped in his ride.

Maybe listening to the satellite radio would offer an answer to this dilemma…

**You got me feenin'…  
**

_Click._ He changed stations.

**Sharing our loveeee between the…  
**

_Click._

**Wanna put you to bed, girl…  
**

He slapped the radio knob off.

What the chizz? The radio was against him too!

He fixed it in his mind that the wonky nature of all of this had to cease. He drove to Tori's.

* * *

After André knocked on the Vegas' front door, Trina answered it wearing a tight black dress and six-inch heels. He pitted the fool she was on the hunt for tonight. Typical Trina, yet this proved to be a good sign that Fridays could go back to being typical.

"Hey Alex!"

He rolled his eyes. "It's…is Tori home?"

"Upstairs. And make sure you knock loud. Something about making yourself known. She's been so weird this week."

The temptation to ask if she knew what went down came to him, but vapor Trina disappeared. And he was alone again. With his lovely contradiction.

The walk upstairs felt like climbing Everest.

_Must talk. Must clear up rift. Must cover eyes. _

He knocked on the bedroom door loud enough to wake the dead.

Minutes ticked by. Great, would she hide here too?

The door opened slowly and revealed Tori, quietly studying him (and, thank God, fully clothed). She leaned against the door. "Hey, André. Wassup?"

He dropped his stare to the carpet. Pretending that nothing happened was a jack move. Somebody had to be the adult here.

He ran a hand through his dreads. "Tori, I think we need to talk about last Friday."

Wordless, she took him by the hand and pulled him inside the room.

* * *

With any other girl, this would have been like Heaven: No parents home, no annoying sibs to interrupt. Quiet house, soft music and a lava light in the background.

But, as they lay on the bed staring at the black light stars decorating the ceiling, this was hell to André. Soul rotting, guilt-ridden hell.

When she finally spoke, it shocked him. "I owe you the biggest apology."

_What?_ He turned to look at her. "Why do you owe me? You weren't the one staring for a full ninety seconds."

She looked at him with an exhausted expression on her face. "Yeah, well, you weren't the one hiding in the janitor's closet all week because of a 'mysterious illness.' I could have come to lunch. Plus, that closet did nothing for my hair."

A smile came on his lips. "Still trying to make me feel better even now…"

"I should have been the bigger person—"

The smile slid off and a frown took its place. He sat up. "No, I shouldn't have felt that way—"

Sadness crossed her face as she rolled on to her side, her chin resting on the back of her hand.

_ Could she turn the hotness meter down for just a minute?_

"I'm sure it was a scary enough sight to run off anybody—"

"Scared? _Chizz_, I wanted to come inside..."

Her eyes went wide as her jaw dropped.

He froze. "That didn't stay in my head, did it?"

She shook her head, looking spooked. "No…"

_Ohmycrap!_ Falling on his back, he ran both of his hands across his face. "Noooo. That's not…I'm not trying to make you…" André sat up again. Truth would eventually come out and he had to be honest. "You don't get it."

She sat up in the bed too and rested her back against the headboard. "Then, spell it out."

"I wasn't embarrassed because I saw you. I was embarrassed at what I _thought_ about you _after_ I saw you."

A pause followed. "But, you still ran away."

"Let's use logic here—dude sees a girl _au naturel_. His first thought usually ain't running. The running was secondary."

She raised an eyebrow. "And what was the first thought exactly?"

A groan escaped his throat. "Did we not take health class together?"

Her whole face turned red as blood. "You liked me in the 'health class way' after you saw me.'"

It wasn't a question, but affirmation. "Yes! I didn't want to stop looking! But, I feel like the gankiest dude on the planet. That's why when you hid, I didn't chase you. I don't want to be another dude who only sees girls like that. You have my mad respect. You don't need my lusting eyes."

Both of them sat in an uncomfortable silence for a full minute.

How could he just have told his best friend that he wanted to sleep with her?

"André," Tori gave him those same begging brown eyes from last week. "I didn't want you to stop looking."

* * *

When he climbed back on the bed from his fall, André stared at her like he was the one naked. "You, whaaaaa?"

"I've been thinking about all the breakups and failed crushes lately and—and—and I wonder if that was the common factor between them. I'm wondering if I shouldn't just—be like other girls…instead of tied up like a present."

His jaw cemented with anger as he thought about her ex-boyfriends and the tears she shed for them. "Getting into your pants isn't gonna make a guy care about you more."

"Then, why do I have to keep going through the heartbreaks? What am I doing wrong? Being a prude isn't helping." A mixture of defeat and confusion crossed her face. "Maybe I should let you untie this bow."

Slapping him would have felt better. Not this.

His tone was low. "Don't say that."

"Why not?"

"Because when you dare a guy to like you in the 'health class way,' he'll do it, and then he'll stomp on the rest of your heart. I'm not exempted."

She slid closer to him and turned his face toward hers. "André, I trust you—"

_Trap! Get out, Harris, get out!_ "Don't trust me with your feelings."

"When did my feelings get involved? You just told me most guys only want the physical."

He took both of her hands into his, fighting to remain focused on his words, not on how well she filled out the purple leggings and matching top. He was drowning in those pretty brown eyes. "Your feelings got involved the same time mine did. You're my friend, but you've starting to feel like something more."

She gave him a swooning look.

He pulled her into his arms, some of it was because of his own selfishness to touch her and some of it was to keep her from falling. "If you're gonna faint, then please don't do it off this bed. Your floor _hurts_."

"I—I don't…what's up with us?"

"The universe is officially stuck in wonky."

She stared at her sheets. "Now what are we? Friends? Not friends? Or did I screw that up too?"

"What? No!" He shook his head. "Tori, I'll do anything you want me to. Make love to you. Make you happy...but some roads, I scared to go down. And now, I'm 'Last House on the Left' petrified. I don't want to hurt you, no matter how much I want to rip the wrapping paper off the present. What if _I_ fail you? What if _I_ mess up? Isn't that what our lives center around? Never failing?"

She blinked several times. "I just threw myself at you and now you must think I'm the biggest slut." Tori covered her face. "Ohmycrap."

André engulfed her into hug, holding her as she sobbed.

Every part of his skin itched with the need to make this right.

The conflict was higher than the levels on Call of Duty: Be the best of friends and turn the page on this mishap in their friendship by forgetting this ever happened? Or pull her down to the mattress and prove to her that she wasn't just some sensual-filled daydream? The vanilla scented shampoo pulled him in one direction, the tears pulled him in another.

She dropped her head on his chest once she was exhausted from crying. "Are we going to be okay after this?"

He tilted her chin up to face him and carefully brushed away the tears with his thumb. Leaning down, he wasn't sure what answers kissing her on the lips would provide, but he couldn't keep himself from doing it...

When he forced himself to pull away several minutes later, André could only give Tori one definite answer: "Baby, I don't know."


End file.
